The Choice
by Diamond-Raven
Summary: Tarazed has decided to join the Commonwealth and have given Dylan 4000 crewmembers to fill out his crew. When both crews refuse to adjust to each other, Dylan is forced to choose one crew, and ask the other crew to leave.
1. Chapter 1

The Choice

Disclaimer: All characters and references to Andromeda belong to Tribune Entertainment, not me.

Author: Diamond-Raven

Story Rating: PG-13

Summary: Tarazad had decided to join the Commonwealth after all, and have given Dylan 4000 High Guard officers to fill out his crew and ship. When it becomes clear that his old crew and new crew can't work together, Dylan is forced to choose one and let the other go.

XXXXXX

Dylan sighed and leaned back in his chair. Hearing the sound of his own sigh, he realized how long it had been since he had last sighed. On that note, he sighed again.

Stretching, he crossed his arms behind his head and gazed around his office.

He couldn't help but let a little grin creep across his face. Hell, it was okay to smile. Hell, it was even okay to sigh.

Because for the first time in more than a year, he could relax. Really relax. He sighed again. Man, that felt so good.

He had completely forgotten the feeling of utter contentment which came with having a full crew. He smiled. After all, it had been over 300 years since he last had had a full crew.

Not that the seven of them hadn't done a superb job. Of course they had. But now, all of his worries, headaches, tensions and constant nail biting times were gone. Forever.

He smiled again and sighed.

He had a full crew.

XXXXXX

(Two weeks earlier)

Rekel Ben-Tzione smiled broadly as she glanced over the Commonwealth charter she had just signed.

"There." She said, smiling up at Dylan who was standing beside her. "Happy now?"

Dylan laughed. "Extremely." He handed the little Tarazed pin to Rommie, who ceremoniously pinned it up onto the Commonwealth chart. Seven glowing pins shone up at the three of them.

Dylan felt so good he wanted to run around the Observation deck, kissing the charter. However, he didn't think that this was quite the appropriate thing to do. Around the rest of his crew, sure, but in front of a Commonwealth planetary leader…no.

Still, he couldn't quite keep the grin off his face. Just a week ago they had arrived on Tarazed. Dylan smiled when he remembered how disappointed he had been when the election results had come in.

He had so badly wanted Tarazed to join. Also, the side benefits weren't lost on him either. Rekel had not only promised to restock their weapons inventory, give the Andromeda an exterior as well as interior cleaning (which Rommie had been pleading him about for about a year), but also a full crew. Dylan couldn't think of a better deal.

Of course, there was that small dent in the entire plan which would have only made the deal possible if he arrested Telemachus and let Rekel go free.

However, the rest of his crew had persuaded him to go along with the plan, but just change it a little. Dylan had made a secret agreement with Telemachus that they would stage his arrest while he secretly escaped. That way, not only would Rhade be free, but the isolationists on Tarazed would be scared off or convinced to change their vote.

After Rekel pulled a few good deals with her connections, another election was called, and the population decided to join the Commonwealth. Although it did faze him a little to be praising the woman who had killed a man and had been willing to throw an innocent man into jail for her crimes, Dylan knew that her intentions had been good and that she did what she did for her people, not for herself.

XXXXXX

Rekel glanced at Dylan. "Now that you've done your big diplomatic part of this deal, I'll do mine. I've already sent a message down to headquarters. The cleaners and weapon supplies should be up here any moment, and I do believe that your 4000 new crew members will be coming up here as well." She smiled at him. "Ready to give your future crew a tour?"

Dylan grinned. "Am I ever."

"Good. They've been waiting for this for a long time. They're all highly certified of course, the best of the best. All top of their classes at the academy. I fished out the best for you, Dylan."

This was sounding better and better. Highly certified? Top of their classes? Compared to the fact that his current engineer had never gone to school in his entire life, this sounded like a dream.

Dylan's grin widened. "Well, in that case, I suggest the two of us head down to the Hangar deck to greet them."

"Sounds excellent."

XXXXXX

Dylan sighed again. Life was great. He hadn't felt this damn good in all of his 343 years. Life was really damn good.

The crew really had turned out to be as good as Rekel had promised. All of them were superbly trained, were smart and were the crew of every captain's dream.

For the past year and a half, life had been so chaotic, tense and hurried. Now, life was slowing down.

Everywhere he looked, he no longer saw empty corridors, instead the entire ship bustled with activity. No longer did he only see chainmail shirts and baggy pants, but everwhere were the crisp, clean uniforms of the High Guard. Everytime he entered a room, he was greeted with firm, proper salutes and a loud: "Captain on deck!", instead of the usual head turning and head nodding and the "Hey Dylan!" or "Hey boss!"

No longer where there a million things he had to do everyday. He no longer had to make all the small decisions about things like ordering supplies, writing speeches, assigning duty shifts or restocking the weapons inventory. Also, he not longer had to check every ten minutes if some members of his crew had left or not on a little unauthorized excursion. Everything was done for him.

And the ship herself was in terrific condition. Every inch of her sparkled as if she had been built last week, not 300 years ago. All of her systems were running at top notch speed, and if something did have a little glitch, he hardly noticed it, since it was immediately taken care of with efficiency and precision and being accompanied by no whining or complaining.

Life was perfect. The order and the calmness which he had lacked in the past year had all returned, and he was back to being what he was assigned duty to: being a High Guard Commonwealth Captain of a Glorious Heritage Cruiser.

XXXXXX

Beka yawned as she stepped out of the mess hall and started striding down the corridor. She had to weave her way through the crowd of people walking around, talking quietly amongst themselves or reading the flexis they held in their hands.

She still couldn't quite get used to seeing all these uniforms around her. She glanced down at her own black pants and navy blue shirt. She smiled. Wasn't she making the fashion statement here? Turning around a corner, she bumped into someone who was walking towards her.

"Oh, sorry about that. Didn't see you." She smiled.

The person barely glanced up, just nodded and kept on walking. However, Beka didn't fail to see the disapproving look in his eyes.

She rolled her eyes. The whole lot was so damn proper. Well, at least she knew where Dylan got it from.

Suddenly, the corridor lights flickered off and were replaced with the blue battle lights which flooded the hallway.

"Code Red! Code Red! Nietzschean destroyer approaching. All personal to battlestations." Andromeda's voice filtered through the walls.

Immediately, Beka started running towards command, pushing over the people who were in her way. Mumbling apologies to them, she kept on running until she reached command.

Running in, she immediately ran over to the piloting station.

However, when she saw that somebody was already piloting, she skidded to a stop. Confused, she stared at the person.

"Excuse me, there buddy. But, last time I checked, I was the pilot." She said.

The person barely glanced at her.

Beka stepped closer and crossed her arms, a frown starting to form on her face. "Hello?"

The man's eyes were still glued to the screen, but she could tell that he had heard her. However, he still didn't respond.

Beka opened her mouth to yell at him to get the hell off her station, when she noticed somebody's hand on her arm. She shook the hand off and turned around.

She was facing a young woman, who didn't look a day older than her.

Who the hell was this again? Oh, yeah. Dylan had said something about that she was in charge of the entire crew—assigning them duty shifts, moving them around stations and was also the person with whom you had to okay your vacation times with. Oh, great.

Beka stared at her. "Yes?" she asked, trying to keep her voice civil. It was pretty hard. They were in the middle of a battle and somebody was standing at her damn station.

The woman gave her an icy smile. "You're—" she quickly skimmed over a flexi in her hand.

"—Rebecca Valentine, aren't you?"

Beka gave her a curt nod.

"Yes, I think you forgot to check the duty shifts rooster this morning. You don't have flight duty until later this afternoon." She gave Beka another wide smile.

Beka didn't smile back. "Look, I know as well as you do when I have flight duty and when I don't. However, during battles, I'm the pilot. Always have been and always will be—"

"Yes, I understand that, and I agree that you're a pretty good pilot. However, during such tense times as battles when real flying is required, according to safety regulations, we have to have a certified and trained pilot flying." She smiled at her. "And you, Ms. Valentine, have no qualifications, no certifications and are otherwise not at all suitable for such tense flying conditions. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave the command area. Only High Guard officers are to be in this area during battles. Afterwards, you can come back and fly around a little bit, if you like."

Beka clenched her jaw. Who the hell did this woman think she is? She was treating her like a damn child, like an idiot who didn't know how to fly. God damn! She was the best freaking pilot around.

Right then, a barrage of missiles hit the ship and Beka had to grab onto the railing behind her to keep from falling.

She gave the woman a tight smile. "Nice job your 'certified' pilot is doing there." She spat.

The woman pretended not to have heard her. "I'm sorry, miss, but you're really going to have to leave. If you don't, I'll have to call security."

Beka opened her mouth to tell her off, but then thought better of it. She'd already had a run in with the woman when the woman had reprimanded her for telling one of those uniformed clones how to realign some damn coils or something properly. The way the idiot had been doing it, those coils wouldn't be fixed until some time next year.

When Beka had told the woman to mind her own business, and that she was the first officer, the woman had promptly informed her that, according to protocol, Beka wasn't the first officer. Yup, she wasn't certified or trained. Beka had right away gone to Dylan, who had basically told her that the situation was out of his hands. When he had agreed to take on the new crew, he had given that damn woman all responsibility for the entire crew, including his old crew.

So, Beka's rank had been handed over to some little dumbwit who grew pale whenever somebody even mentioned the word 'battle'. That she hadn't minded that much. She was still captain of her own ship, and that was where it really mattered.

However, now, her only rank left on this ship was being taken away. A rank that she had truly earned.

But Beka knew that arguing with her would be useless. Plus, she had promised Dylan to be civil with her.

Beka gave her another smile while she glared at her. Without a word, she turned around and marched out of command, not looking at any of the damn 'certified' people whom she passed.

XXXXXX

Rev glanced up as the ship shook under him and the flames on his candles flickered. Another Nietzschean destroyer. Probably the Drago-Katzov. He sighed. As much as he wanted Dylan and the rest of the crew to make peace with the pride, he had to admit that he wasn't too happy with them either. Any pride which was willing to kill millions of people for their own revenge didn't sit too well with him.

He sighed and went back to his prayers, which had been interupted by the missile barrage hitting the ship. The only sound in the candle lit room was the Wayists murmurs.

In the background, the yells of running by crew members could be heard, but these didn't faze his concentration.

Quite suddenly, his quarters doors swished open and a group of officers entered.

Rev couldn't help but feel slightly irritated. The rest of the crew knew when he meditated and they respected him enough to leave him alone during these times unless it was a dire emergency. Although he had informed that housekeeping woman of his meditation times, she seemed to either forget quite frequently, or to just not respect his wishes.

"Reverend? A moment?" the woman asked briskly, standing behind him, her feet on his clean prayer mat.

Sighing inwardly, he stopped his prayers and stood up and turned to her.

"Is everything alright?"

She gave him a tight smile. "Of course. The battle will be over momentarily and the minimal damage we have sustained will be fixed up immediately following the withdrawal or destruction of the destroyer." While she spoke, her eyes were roaming around Rev's room. "However, I am not here to discuss classified battle information, but to discuss the safety regulations you are currently overriding."

Rev raised an eyebrow. "Safety regulations? I am afraid I do not understand—"

Another tight smile. "Concerning your use of lit candles in this room, I will have to ask you to refrain from lighting anything, especially candles, in your quarters. They are a fire hazard. Moreover, if you continue to light these candles, I'm afraid that I'll have no choice but to confiscate them. However, if you do wish to continue playing around with candles, you may take them to the officers mess and light them during meal times when lots of emergency trained personal are around."

Rev couldn't believe what he was hearing. Didn't she have any respect for his beliefs whatsoever? He frowned at her.

"Ma'am, I completely understand the potential hazard I am causing, but I can assure you that in the past year of my having done this twice a day I have always been extremely careful and Andromeda has constantly monitored the flames of my candles—"

"Yes, I'm sure she has," The woman briskly interuped him. Rev was starting to get very agitated by this woman. He couldn't help but slightly bare his teeth at her. She was not only disrespectful, but also extremely rude. Two qualities which he couldn't stand in humans.

"However, your use of lit candles in your quarters are not the only reason I am here. When I first started working aboard this ship, I thought that you practicing your religious beliefs so publically wouldn't be a problem. However, some crew members have expressed some concern over your public practices. They feel quite uncomfortable with you advocating your religion in such an open way—"

Rev stared at her. "Ma'am, I can assure you that I have never practiced my beliefs anywhere except for these quarters which nobody frequents but myself. Also, I have never tried to force any aspect of my religion onto the crew. If I ever have seemed to do so, it was certainly not intentional—"

"May I finish, Reverend?" she asked, apparently not having paid any attention to him.

"So, due to the safety regulations which your practices override and the general uncomfortable atmosphere which they create on this ship, I will have to ask you to refrain from making any public remarks about your religion or using its teachings in any conversation with a fellow crew member. Is that understood?"

Rev stared at her. She was just about the rudest, most disrespectful person he had ever run across.

Instead of responding, he continued staring at her, a glimmer of distaste in his eyes. He couldn't help but let out a tiny growl.

She immediately jumped.

He smiled inwardly and gave her a bow. "Of course, m'm. Whatever you wish."

Giving him a tight smile, she turned and swept out of his quarters, followed by the group of officers who hadn't even blinked during the entire conversation.

XXXXXX

"Twenty-three…twenty-four…twenty-five…" Tyr grunted as he counted, his teeth clenched. Lifting the heavy weight one last time, his muscles straining, he thought he'd try to make thirty. However, his goal was never reached.

He heard somebody clear their throat by the doorway. Choosing to ignore it, he pushed the bar up again, his muscles straining, his breath coming out in grunts. "Twenty-seven…"

Again the clearing of the throat.

"Twenty-eight…"

Finally, he saw a woman's face coming into focus above him. She gave him a tight smile as she stared down at him.

"Mr. Anasazi? A moment?" When Tyr didn't respond, she frowned. "Now?"

Mumbling a curse under his breath, he replaced the weight and slowly sat up. He glanced at her, then grabbed a towel which lay on the floor and started wiping the sweat off of his arms, face and chest.

He noticed she was looking at him with distaste as she took in the sweat covering him.

He nearly snorted. Let her be disgusted. He didn't give a damn. Who was she again? Oh, yes, that housekeeping woman who ran around telling everyone what to do.

He had quickly noticed that she was extremely rude and snobby. He had done his upmost best to avoid her at all costs.

He continued drying himself, taking in deep breaths and slowing down his heart rate.

When he heard her tap her foot impatiently, he lazily lifted up his eyes and stared her directly into the face. He noticed with some interest that she held his gaze without flinching.

She might be rude and snobby,but she was no coward. Tyr nearly smiled. Finally a likable characteristic about the woman. She might be a piece of trash, but she had guts. Admirable, considering the rest of her.

"Yes?" he asked, throwing the towel over his shoulder.

She raised an eyebrow, obviously ticked off at having had to wait for him.

"I came here concerning the protocol regulation which you breached yesterday at 1356."

Tyr raised an eyebrow.

When she noticed he had no idea what she was talking about, she pulled herself up to her full height, which still put her a head below Tyr.

"Yesterday while you were in command and when the captain entered, you failed to abide by the correct protocol procedures."

"Oh, really? And what procedures might those have been?"

"First off, saluting and standing at attention. You did neither of these things, you only stood by the door and continued working at your station, showing no respect or acknowledgement for you captain having entered the room."

"Would you have wanted me to not only a salute and stand at attention but bring in a banner too which says "Good afternoon my good, gracious captain"?" Tyr smirked.

She didn't even blink but continued talking as if she hadn't heard him.

"Not only did you not acknowledge the captain's presence accordingly, but later on, you addressed him by his first name, which is breaching another protocol regulation, a more severe one. This not only radiated disrespect from you, but also made every other crew member on command at that moment look disrespectful."

Tyr smirked again. "So if I flirt with a particularly good looking female, the entire crew will throw themselves at her?"

Again she ignored him. "So, since you breached not one, but two protocol regulations, you are confined to your quarters until further notice. Please leave this room immediately and go to your quarters."

Tyr laughed in her face. "Woman, who do you think you're talking to? A five year old child?"

"If you do not leave immediately, I will call security."

Tyr rolled his eyes and slowly walked towards the door.

However, as soon as he reached the door, he turned down the hallway which lead away from the crew quarters.

"Mr. Anasazi! I thought I explicitally told you to—"

Tyr kept on walking. "Woman, you have yet to learn your exact place on this ship." He yelled over his shoulder as he walked down the corridor.

XXXXXX

Trance quietly slipped into hydroponics, peeking around the corners and plants to see if she was really alone. When she saw that the entire room was deserted, she let out a relieved sigh.

It had been so long since she was in hydroponics by herself.

For the past two weeks, everyday she had come down only to find a group of the new gardeners who were assigned to her plants hovering around them.

She walked around her plants, carefully scrutinizing every leaf and every needle.

She frowned when she saw that the gardners had forgotten to prune one little bush on the side.

Grabbing a pair of scissors, she carefully started cutting off tiny parts of the delicate branches.

Finally, she sat back, crouching on her heels and smiled at the bush.

"There you go, Bobby. As good as new."

She pushed herself off the ground and was about to start looking at the rest of her plants, when she heard the door open.

She spun around, the scissors still in her hands.

A woman and a group of officers were walking towards her. Trance frowned as she tried to remember who the woman was. Finally she remembered. Dylan had referred to her as a 'housekeeper'.

The woman stopped a few paces in front of Trance and stared disdainfully at her dirt covered hands, the smudge of dirt on her cheek and the scissors in her hands.

"Hello." Trance said, hoping to get the woman talking.

The woman made no indication of having heard her, but continued staring at her.

Finally, she looked Trance in the face. "Ms. Gemini?"

"Yes?"

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Might I ask what your exact position is on this ship?"

Trance frowned. Her position? What a strange question.

"Well, I'm mainly a doctor, but I'm also gardener, the cook, and the menace to machinery." Trance looked surprised. "Wow. I never really realized how much stuff I do on this ship. Well, I'm sure that you can relate, being a housekeeper and all. Must be pretty tough, huh? Such a big crew to take care of and the ship. It's not exactly a 'house', but I must admit that calling yourself a 'shipkeeper' doesn't quite have the same ring to it. Just like calling me a plant person doesn't quite hit it like 'gardener' does, don't you think? Or maybe you like the sound of 'shipkeeper'. Well, maybe if you talk to Dylan, I'm sure he can arrange something so that you—"

The woman cleared her throat and Trance abruptly closed her mouth.

"Ms. Gemini, you are part of this ship's medical team, aren't you?"

Trance found the woman's coldness and rudeness very unlikable. "Yes." She said, a bit more curtly than she had answered before.

"Then is it correct to assume that all medical protocols apply to you?"

"Yes." Trance had no idea where she was going. What medical protocols?

"Then I'm afraid that I'll have to ask you to refrain from ever visiting these gardens ever again."

"What?" Trance asked, frowning.

The woman stared pointly down at Trance's dirt covered hands. "Although I'm sure you enjoy grubbing around in the dirt, you are gathering a hoard of bacteria and dirt on your hands, which you will undoubtly transfer to any medical supplies you handle or any patients whom you treat. Such a thing is too unsanitary, and I'm afraid that I can't allow it. So, from now on, you will refrain from visiting these gardens."

Trance frowned at her. "But I always disinfect my hands properly before I—"

"Yes, I'm sure you do. However, these are your orders. You will either follow them or will be dismissed from the medical staff."

"But, I—" Trance started to protest, tears welling up in her eyes.

The woman gave her a tight smile. "Don't worry about your little plant things—" she waved dismissively over her shoulder at Bobby and the others. "—they'll be properly taken care of by the gardeners."

Trance stared at her, tears rolling down her face. The woman was so unfair! Those were her plants! She'd raised all of them as if they were her own children! Now she wasn't allowed to see them anymore.

With a sob, Trance turned around and ran out of hydroponics towards her quarters.

As soon as she burst through the door, she was nearly run over by a group of officers who were just coming out of her quarters.

In their arms were the few sick plants which she kept in her room to tend to them better.

"What are you doing?" she cried.

Only one of the officers bothered to answer her. He shrugged. "Medical protocols." He mumbled over his shoulder as he walked through the door, ramming the plant so hard into the doorframe that its fragile stem snapped in half. The officer paused briefly and picked up the broken top, mumbled an "I'm sorry" over his shoulder and disappeared out the door.

Sobbing even harder now, Trance flung herself onto her bed, crying into her pillow.

XXXXXX

Harper had to restrain himself from punching a dent into the corridor walls as he walked to Engineering.

If he saw one more of those damned clones he swore he'd kill him. Or her. They all looked the same.

He was so fed up with them it wasn't funny anymore. Sure, at first, he'd tried to be civil. Just like Dylan had asked him to.

During meal times, he'd sit with them and try to have a conversation with them. But he was either ignored with the only response from his audience being a shaking of the head and a rolling of the eyes as if to say "Would you listen to the child droning on?". Or, they'd completely shut him out, laughing about some inside joke that they had from their days at the academy or something.

Even in Engineering, he'd tried to be civil. At first, he'd shown them all around and explained to them all how it worked, but the entire time, they had just smiled to themselves and rolled their eyes. Finally, one of them had told him that he could save his breath. They'd all been studying High Guard ships for years and they knew them better than he did. There was no need for him to waste his time talking about things he hardly knew anything about and that they'd been learning about since they'd been in a nursery.

He'd just bit his tongue and left them. Oh, yeah. He was going to let them have it and make them shut those damn rude and belittleling mouths of theirs, but he'd promised Dylan he was going to be civil.

However, now it was getting hard. Extremely hard. Since now they weren't only destroying his social life, but they were slowly shoving him out of his rank too.

For the past two weeks now, he had been bored. This was amazing, since for the past year and a half, he had never been bored. Never.

Now, he was constantly bored. The new crew included 200 engineers who spent the entire day hoovering over Rommie's systems and keeping things in such top shape that nothing ever broke down or ran out of power. Even in the off chance that something did go wrong, the problem was taken care of in two seconds. There were no longer 5 million things for him to do everyday.

Strange. He'd always complained over his workload. Now, he regretted all that complaining. He actually missed running around and doing everything at once.

He was not only frustrated and isolated, he was also bored.

Despite his black mood, his thoughts brightened up at the thought of going to Engineering. He still had all of his gizmos and toys there. Even though he had no more real work to do, he could still play around with all of his toys.

Smiling, he walked through the door of Engineering, preparing to spent the entire afternoon in pure bliss in his haven.

However, when he saw a group of officers mingling around all of his gizmos, he froze.

Especially when he saw that woman in the middle of them.

He rolled his eyes. It was that damn housekeeper woman.

He about to turn around and leave when he suddenly noticed what they were doing. The woman was leaning casually against an enormous bin filled with metal scraps and wires and was reading outloud from a flexi.

When Harper looked closer, he saw that the group of officers were in the middle of taking apart all of his gizmos and throwing them carelessly into the bin.

His jaw dropped. He could only stare as a group of officers started dismantling his X-1, taking the metal bars and ripping them off and tearing the wires out of the control panel.

Anger filled him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded, striding down the ramp towards the woman.

She raised an eyebrow and glanced at him. "Mr. Harper, I was just looking for you." She said breezily, giving no indication of having heard him.

"I couldn't care less if you were looking for me or not. I asked you a question, lady. What the hell do you think you're doing?"

She stared at him, her eyes filled with disdain. God damn she was not only arrogant, she was rude too.

"Mr. Harper, I'm afraid you're forgetting who you are talking to—"

"I don't give a damn who I'm talking to, furthermore, you can take that rank of yours and shove it up your ass! Those are my things you're taking apart and destroying! Who the hell gave you the right to touch those things?" he snarled, completely forgetting his promise to Dylan.

One of the officers moved forward as if to grab hold of his arm, but the woman gave him a slight shake of her head.

"Mr. Harper, I would close my mouth right now if I were you. You've already breached two protocols, I don't think you want me to add another one, namely, being rude to a superior officer."

Harper was about to say something sarcastic over exactly who was the superior one here, but he thought better of it. Two protocols? What the hell? He hadn't broken any.

"What protocols?" he asked.

She raised an eyebrow. "Yesterday, you climbed into one of the ships airducts and crawled along them without any safety harness whatsoever—"

"Safety harnass? Lady, I've been crawling around tunnels like those my entire life and I've never needed any—"

"May I finish, Mr. Harper?"

Harper closed his mouth.

"Also, your little things—" she waved her hand at the bin she was leaning on. "—are a safety hazard in this room. Too many people frequent this area for your toys to be allowed to just lie around. In addition to that, some of your toys include some vital spare parts which we need for ship repairs. So, we've taken the liberty to dismantle all of the toys from which we need parts, and the rest will be delivered to your quarters where you can play with them at your heart's content. Also, since you seem to have no regard for your own safety and that of others, I am ordering you to stay away from this room during the day hours, and anywhere else where you create a potential safety hazard, such as the slipstream reactor core, command, and Andromeda's internal matrix—"

"You mean I can't interface with her anymore? Who the hell gave you the right to—"

"—and you are to stay confined to your quarters during any battles so that you create no potential safety hazard."

Harper gaped at her. Was he supposed to spend all day in his quarters, twiddling his thumbs and staring off into space?

"Furthermore, since you breached another protocol measure just a few minutes ago, a very severe one in fact, you will spend the rest of today in the brig in isolation."

He raised an eyebrow, anger consuming him. "Like hell I will," He spat, then turned and sprinted out of Engineering.

A few officers lunged for him, but he dodged around them and ran past them.

As he ran down the corridors, smashing into people and dodging anybody's attempts at grabbing hold of him, he could only think of one place where he could be safe.

Running faster, he ran down to the hangar deck towards the Maru.


	2. Chapter 2

The Choice

(Chapter 2)

"—then she said I'd never be allowed to go see them ever again," Trance said, biting down on her lip to keep from crying again. "They even came and took the sick ones out of my room."

Beka pounded on the table she was leaning against. It was bad enough that she wasn't allowed to fly anymore, but Trance not being allowed to see her plants—that was just the top.

A snort came from where Tyr was leaning against the Maru's wall.

"At least you weren't confined to your quarters like a child." He snarled, spitting onto the floor. Beka gave him a look and Tyr went to get a napkin.

Rev shook his head from where he was sitting on one of the chairs. "The woman is not only rude, but she has no respect whatsoever. Not for our abilities—" he nodded at Beka, "—or for our beliefs or our passions." He shook his head.

Suddenly, they all heard the airlock being opened.

Seconds later, a gasping Harper fell through the door, collapsing onto the table.

Beka grinned down at him. "Long time no see. Let me guess, you had a little run in with the little housekeeper witch too, huh?"

Harper nodded, breathing hard. "Yup. I ain't only confined to my quarters, I'm supposed to be in the brig right now."

Beka raised her eyebrow and looked around at the others.

"Protocol breaches?" They all asked in unison.

Harper rolled his eyes. "What do you think?"

Tyr looked up from where he was finished wiping the floor. "Well, what are we going to do?"

When nobody gave any suggestions but just stared at the floor, Tyr crossed his arms.

"I say we just leave. We have our own ship and we have our own crew as well." When he got no response, he held up his hands. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I am not willing to take being bossed around and being treated like a child." He stared around at the rest of his shipmates. "And I know that none of you particularily like that either."

Nobody countered that one. Finally, Beka cleared her throat.

"Well, I say we can't just leave. We at least have to talk to Dylan." When Tyr rolled his eyes, Beka looked over at him. "We owe him that much, Tyr."

Tyr shrugged. That was his way of agreeing.

Rev spoke up into the silence that had followed Beka's comment. "I say that we at least give him a chance—"

"We have Rev. We've given him a chance for two weeks already. He said at the beginning that it would take a while to adjust, but I think we all know that it'll never work. I say we just leave. Sure, we'll go say good bye to him and Rommie, but then I say we leave. We've already given him a chance." Harper said.

Rev held up his hand. "Harper, I didn't mean that we give him another chance at trying to make this work, I meant that we give him a choice."

"What choice?" Trance asked, confused.

Rev smiled. "Since both crews working together obviously didn't work out, we'll ask him to choose which crew he wants to keep. If he chooses us, then we stay. If he chooses them, then we leave."

"Either way we'd be free of those clones." Beka said, thoughtfully chewing on her lip.

Harper raised an eyebrow. "It's a good idea, but whose gonna go talk to the big guy about it?"

No response.

Tyr sighed. "We'll do this the easy way. Trance, hand me those straws and the scissors."

Trance gave them to him and Tyr proceeded to cut one of the straws in half. Then, he bunched them all up, made sure they were all level and then held them out in front of him.

"This should make things easier."

Slowly, they all reached forward and one by one, pulled out a straw. Nobody missed the huge sigh of relief from Trance when she pulled out a long one.

Beka, too, couldn't help but feel relieved when she pulled out a long one.

However, an uncomfortable silence followed after the last straw had been picked.

Harper had pulled the short one.

He briefly closed his eyes and swallowed a groan. Giving them all a bright grin, he hopped off the table.

"Okay, might as well get it over with now. I'll see you guys soon." He said as he walked over to the airlock. "Don't have any wild parties while I'm gone." He called over his shoulder.

His comment was greeted by thin smiles and strangled laughs as the rest of the crew watched him disappear onto the hangar deck.

XXXXXX

Dylan sighed again as he resisted the urge to put his feet up on his desk. Not only was his life void of stress and chaos, but that housekeeper woman was running everything for him.

Life was really great. He sighed again. He really liked that sound.

Staring around his office, he now felt he understood why Admiral Stark had said he'd love being a captain of a High Guard ship. The relaxation, the comfort and the feeling of everything being alright in the universe engulfed him and made him want to kiss the ground in thanks for the day that the Admiral had given him command of the Andromeda.

Suddenly, his day dreams were interupted as Rommie's hologram flickered into existence infront of his desk.

"Captain, I hate to interupt but I feel there is something that needs your attention."

Dylan laughed. "Rommie, for two weeks nothing has needed my attention. A little crisis is nothing I can't fit into my day planner."

Rommie gave him a brief smile. She nearly seemed uncomfortable.

He frowned. "What is it?"

"It's a member of your crew. He's sitting outside your door, refusing to come in and refusing to talk to me about what's wrong. He's been there for over an hour."

Dylan frowned as he opened his mouth to ask that painful but obvious question.

Rommie knew what he was going to ask and answered him before he had to ask.

"He's a member of your old crew, captain. It's Harper."

Dylan raised an eyebrow. Harper? Why in the world would he be sitting outside of his quarters on the floor, refusing to come in?

"Did you tell him he's welcome to come in?"

"I have. I told him that you still want them to consider your quarters their quarters, but he said something about things being different and that he feels weird coming in." she held up her hands helplessly. "I tried, captain, but he's refusing to come in."

Dylan sighed. "Alright. If he won't come in, I'll go out. Rommie, please seal off the corridor so that nobody interupts us. I have a feeling that what he has to say is rather private." Plus, he silently added with his eyes that it wouldn't look very good for anybody walking by to see their captain sprawled out on the floor talking to one of his crewmembers.

Rommie nodded and disappeared.

Stretching, Dylan got up and walked out of his door. He looked up and down the corridor but found nobody in sight. The entire hallway was empty, except for himself and the lone figure sitting beside his door.

He stared down at the tousled blond head for a moment and cleared his throat. Harper gave no indication of having heard him and just continued staring at the floor infront of him, his knees drawn up to his chest.

Dylan smiled briefly and stepped over him and sat down beside him, leaning against the wall.

For a while neither of them said anything. Dylan knew better than to start some small talk over how he was doing and how he was liking the planets they were passing.

He had learned from his old crew quite quickly that they would only talk when they were ready to talk, and no amount of prying would get them talking faster.

So he waited.

And waited.

Finally, Harper lifted his head, still refusing to look at Dylan but staring in front of him.

He licked his dry lips and Dylan could see that nervous twitch on the corner of his mouth. He smiled.

"Dylan, it isn't going to work out."

Dylan frowned. What the hell was he talking about? "The new reactor coils? I thought you said they were working fine."

Harper shook his head. "No, not the stupid coils. But while we're on that subject, I don't know how they're doing, I lied to you. I haven't been allowed to touch them. I'm a potential safety hazard."

"You're a _what_?"

"Never mind that. Anyway, Dylan it just ain't gonna work out."

Dylan was now thoroughly confused. "Mr. Harper, from the beginning please. I'm a few years behind your logic."

Harper sighed. "The new crew, Dylan. They just aren't fitting in. Or we aren't fitting in. I don't know. Either way, it's not working out. I know you said that it would take us a while to adjust to each other, but the way its going, by the time we're adjusted, we'll all be sitting in our quarters the entire day, being told exactly how many times we're allowed to breath per day."

"Harper, I know that some of the adjustments have been hard on you all but—"

"Dylan, they didn't even try. I did. We all did. We all tried to be civil, we all tried to talk to them and we all tried to blend in with them. But they didn't even try. You wanna know why? Because they resent us. They think we're all stupid and childish. They think they're all some freaking gods or something, just because they're certified and they've all officially earned their damn ranks. And they're not willing to even try and get to know us and realize that maybe we're not as dumb as we act or look. But not only won't they respect us, but they won't accept who we are. They're making Rev stop practicing Wayism, they ain't letting Beka fly anymore, they aren't letting Trance see her flowers, they're giving Tyr time-outs—"

"_Time-outs_?"

"—and they won't let me go anywhere near any important part of the ship, never mind fix her, because I'm a potential safety hazard—"

"Harper, although you can be a clumsy person at times, I don't think that 'potential safety hazard' is something that you should be labelled wi—"

"—and what's more, Dylan, they ain't gonna change."

Dylan abruptly shut his mouth. What Harper had said was true. He had always suspected that the new crew would have some trouble getting used to his old crew, but he had thought that they would learn to look through their faults and see the miracles which all of them really were. Now, he didn't think that any of them would ever make that effort.

"Harper—" Dylan sighed.

"Look, Dylan. I know that you thought this would work. To be honest, I thought it would work too. But now, I don't think it ever will. They'll never try to accept us and no amount of yelling, pleading or punishing on your part make them change their attitudes."

Dylan was silent since he was painfully aware of how truthful Harper's words were.

They sat there in silence for a few moments while Dylan chewed on his lower lip.

Finally, he turned to his engineer.

"What do you want me to do, Harper?" he asked quietly, almost afraid of the answer.

Harper turned his head and stared into his eyes, tearing his eyes off the floor which he had been staring at. Dylan stared back into those blue eyes, seeing nothing in them but honesty. No glimmer of sarcasm, no twinkle of humor. Nothing. Only sad honesty.

Dylan blinked.

"Dylan, the only way we're gonna solve this is by you making a choice. A choice between us and them." Harper swallowed hard. "Nobody will make any fuss over which crew you choose. If you choose us, we'll stay. If you choose them, we'll leave. No fuss, no complaints, nothing. I promise."

Dylan stared down at the floor. "All of you?"

Harper nodded.

Dylan sighed and closed his eyes.

Harper was silent for a few more moments until he slowly stood up and started walking down the corridor.

Dylan opened his eyes and stared after him. The baggy pants swayed as he slowly shuffled down the corridor as if he was in his own livingroom. The heavy toolbelt hung crookedly on his hips, the soldering wand bumping against his leg with every step he took.

Dylan closed his eyes again.

It was time to make a choice. A choice between a person whose toolbelt hung askew and whose soldering wand bumped against his leg, and who shuffled slouching down the hallway, or a person who walked crisply and straight whose toolbelt hung straight as an arrow, without a single fault.

Faults.

His new crew had none. His old crew had hundreds.

He sighed again.

A choice.

XXXXXX

"Rommie, how the hell am I supposed to make such a choice? It's impossible," Dylan cried as he paced around his quarters. It was three o'clock in the morning and Dylan had been pacing for hours, debating with himself over what to do. Finally he came up with the conclusion that he didn't have a clue as to what he should do and he was so frusterated that he was willing to go buy another starship just so both crews could be satisfied.

He decided that it was time to ask Rommie what to do. As soon as he had shouted out his frustration, the hologram of his ship appeared in front of him.

She blinked at him, a small smile on her lips. She'd been watching him pace around for the past few hours and had known that he'd call her pretty soon.

She crossed her arms and gave him a gentle smile.

"Dylan, your options are quite clear. If you want a crew that is certified and qualified at what they do, you choose the new. If you want a crew that can help you restore the Commonwealth, since they have lived in a world where the Commonwealth has existed, and whose loyalties to your mission you never have to question, you choose the new. However, if you want a crew who are loyal to you to their deaths and who are a merry band of thieves and are hidden miracles, you choose the old. It's your choice, Dylan. Either you choose what's good for the Commonwealth, or you choose what's good for yourself."

Without another word, she quietly disappeared, leaving Dylan standing alone in his quarters.

With a sigh, Dylan collapsed onto his chair.

A choice.

XXXXXX

Dylan swallowed hard as he stood beside Rommie, facing the five members of his old crew.

He had informed them of his decision a few hours ago, and although he had told them that they could stay for as long as they wanted and that they could take all the time they needed, they had all smiled and told him that the sooner they left the better it would be. For everyone.

They all stood in front of him, some of them shuffling, some of them looking impatient and some of them biting their lips, trying hard to keep their emotions to themselves.

Dylan cleared his throat. "Uhm, Trance. Do you have all your plants?"

She nodded and held up one of them which she still held in her arms. Dylan smiled briefly and then turned to Harper.

"And, uhm, Mr. Harper, did you take all your gizmos with you?"

"Yeah, I did. I left all the ones which Rommie will need for spare parts later, but I took all the rest of my junk."

Dylan nodded. He swallowed and tried to keep the smile on his face from wavering.

Slowly, he stepped up to Trance. He was prepared to follow protocol and just salute her, but he dismissed the thought as soon as it came. Hell, this wasn't only his crew. These people were nearly family.

Trance gave him a sad smile, as if she understood what he was thinking. As if she could read his mind, she stepped up and gave him a tight hug.

Dylan smiled and hugged her back. When he let go of her, he stared down at her.

"Trance, although I can't help but admit that I'll be relieved that you won't be messing around in my ships machinery anymore, but I also have to admit that, you are one of the most amazing people I've ever met." He swallowed. "Trance, you really are a lucky charm. Not just for Beka, but for everyone. And I really hope that one day everyone else in the universe will learn to love everyone and everything like you do."

Trance smiled but didn't say anything.

Next he turned to Rev.

Rev gave him a smile. Dylan could hardly smile back. "Rev, I want to thank you. For everything. For never judging, for never reprimanding, but for always being there. With advice, with silence, with whatever was needed at the moment. Thank you."

The Wayist didn't respond, just gave Dylan a low bow, which Dylan returned.

Next, he turned to Harper.

He stared down at the blond headed man who was sadly smiling up at him. That cocky grin was gone and had been replaced by that sad smile which so few people ever got from him.

"Harper, as reluctant as I am to swell that ego of yours anymore, I have to admit that you are one of the most brilliant people I've ever met." Dylan smiled down at him. "And you are truly one of the strongest people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. I will never understand how you keep that damn cocky smile on your face, but I hope you know that you're one of the most amazing people I've ever met and probably will ever meet."

Harper gave him another one of those sad smiles which was way too old for his face.

Swallowing hard, Dylan turned to Tyr.

The Nietzschean stared at him, his face and eyes blank.

Dylan cleared his throat. "Tyr, I noticed that you didn't take the remains with you."

Tyr shrugged. "They are safer on this ship than on that bucket of bolts which Captain Valentine calls an excuse for a ship." He stared at Dylan. "When the day comes that I need them, I will find you."

Dylan nodded. "Until then, you can rest assured that they'll be taken care of."

Tyr nodded.

A silence followed until Dylan finally looked at him again. "Tyr, I want to thank you."

Tyr raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"For sometimes letting your human instincts override your Nietzschean instincts."

Tyr didn't respond. There was no need to. He understood perfectly what Dylan was talking about.

Lastly, Dylan turned to Beka.

They stared at each other for a few moments before Dylan finally found his voice. That lump in his throat was getting very painful.

"Beka, I want to thank you for…for…for being a miracle. I have no other way to describe you. You're a miracle."

Beka smiled at him, her eyes clouded with saddness. "I'm not the only one out of the two of us whose a miracle," She said quietly. "You take care of yourself, Dylan."

Dylan nodded, then stepped back and stared at his crew for a few more moments.

"I want all of you to take care of not only yourselves, but each other too, understood? That's my last order as your captain."

They all nodded and gave their former captain a smile. Smiles filled with promises.

Rommie gave them all firm nods, trying hard not to let the tears which had filled her eyes show.

She had crept into each of their quarters last night and bid them good bye. Some of them had been asleep and some of them awake. Harper, Trance, Beka and Rev had been awake. Tyr had been asleep. It had been just the way it should have been.

She swallowed hard and stared at the five of them.

Slowly, they all turned around and walked onto the Maru. The last glimpse they had of them was Harper, who slammed the airlock shut behind them.

Moments later, the engines turned on with a roar and the propellors on top of the old ship started turning. Slowly, the ship moved out of the hanger deck.

It seemed as if the Maru paused just after she exited the Andromeda, but the moment passed and the ship sped up and disappeared into the inky black sky surrounding the ship.

The android and her captain stood on the deck, tears rolling down their faces as they stared after the ship.

Dylan took a shaky breath. "They had so many faults. So many." He swallowed. "Yet, in one way or another, they were all miracles. All of them."

Rommie nodded through her tears. They were all miracles. In one way or another.

XXXXXX

(One year later)

Dylan rubbed his eyes and stretched. As he stretched he noticed with some amusement that the sleeves of his uniform were getting too small.

He was about to push the intercom button and send for someone to pick up another shirt for him from the storage area, when the doors of his quarters swished open and a woman entered.

It was the housekeeper. Commander Something-or-other. His entire crew was so large and they all looked so much alike that he'd give up a long time ago at getting all their names right.

He smiled at her.

"Can I help you?"

She gave him a wide smile. "Captain, I was notified a few days ago that your uniform sleeves are beginning to get short, so I took the liberty of getting you another shirt." She held it across the desk. Wordlessly, Dylan grabbed it and let it fall onto his lap.

With a firm salute, she walked back out.

He slowly rubbed the material of his new shirt between his fingers.

He found himself completely unsurprised. He had stopped being surprised months ago.

He was so used to the fact that everything was always done for him that he didn't bother giving any orders anymore about trivial things, since chances were that they had already been done before he opened his mouth.

He sighed as he went back to his desk and started playing Go. It amazed him that Go was a two player game, yet he had managed to develop a playing strategy which only involved one person. He smiled. The things he had done in the past few months in order to entertain himself were amazing.

Chatting with Rommie's hologram for hours, playing Go by himself, shadow boxing in his quarters, and even reading long historical documents from Rommie's data archives.

He was so used to not being needed other than in dire emergencies that he had found many intersting ways to amuse himself. He was the captain and that meant that he didn't need to bother himself with the trivialities of running the ship on a daily basis, and that all those trivial things were done for him. Day in and day out, everybody did everything for him.

He smiled sadly.

He'd probably start arranging his furniture in a couple of months. He smiled. He was really starting to feel like an old fossil. An old High Guard fossil.

Suddenly, his memories were thrown backwards and he remembered somebody else who had called him that.

He frowned as he tried to remember. Finally, he remembered.

Harper.

He laughed outloud. God, he hadn't thought about his young engineer in months. Come to think of it, he hadn't thought of his old crew in months either.

He smiled sadly as memories of them filled his mind. God, how he missed them.

Missed their laughter, their excitement, missed their enthusiams. Even missed their utter un-High Guard behavior. Even missed their faults.

He shook his head, still smiling.

God, how long it had been since he had thought about them at all.

Then he remembered that he had thought about them just a couple of weeks ago. Why had those memories come up all of a sudden? Oh, yes, now he remembered. It was that whole Meneron mess.

He grimaced just thinking about it.

They had approached Meneron about joining the Commonwealth. Meneron would be the 36th planet joining the Commonwealth. Dylan had invited their Ambassador onboard for dinner and for chatting about the charter.

While Dylan had prepared for dinner, Dylan had asked one of his crewmembers to show the Ambassador around. Immediately, the man had agreed, although Dylan could glimpse a slight glimmer of annoyance in the man's eyes. When he asked him why he didn't like the idea, he responded with a salute and asking to speak freely. After Dylan told him to go ahead, the man said that he hated Meneron, and its people. He found them manipulative and selfish people and had always despised them. Asides from that, he wasn't on duty at the moment and didn't see why he had to show the Ambassador around.

Dylan had stared at him in surprise, but had quickly hidden his reaction. He was used to the fact that his crew always moaned and groaned (although never outwardly, only inwardly. He could always see it in their eyes) whenever he asked them to do something when they weren't on duty.

But, nevertheless, the man had agreed to show the Ambassador around.

Half an hour later, Dylan was contacted by the Meneron government who told him that their Ambassador had left his ship utterly enraged a few minutes ago and had told Dylan and his charter to go to hell.

When Dylan had recovered from the initial shock, he had asked the representative why the Ambassador had gotten so upset.

It turned out that the crew man whom Dylan had asked to show the Ambassador around had made it quite clear to the Ambassador that he couldn't stand him or his people and would be damned if he were to go around pretending to like him.

Enraged at having lost a potential ally and having had one of his crewmembers show such disrespect, he had called the man to his office and had asked him to explain himself.

The man had shrugged and had told Dylan that he hadn't been on duty. While he was on duty, he had to be loyal to Dylan and his mission and would willingly sacrifice himself for him. However, while he wasn't on duty, he didn't have to carry on that loyalty which he was forced to carry around because of his job.

Hearing that, Dylan had been too shocked to say much of anything and had left all disciplinary actions up to the housekeeper, Commander Whats-her-name.

That was when Dylan had remembered his old crew.

Although they had all had their faults, they had all been loyal to them. And what's more, they had all been honest.

If something was bothering them, they would always talk to him about it and not keep it hidden inside because of some protocol. They never put on fake smiles in fear of being disciplined for disrespecting a superior officer. And what's more, they had never faked their loyalty to him. Some of them had not given a damn about his mission and they had always told him so. But they had never sabotaged his mission. Why? Because they were always loyal to him. Loyal to the point of going out of their way to help him or his mission, even if they didn't believe in it.

He smiled as he remembered how Beka had yelled at the Sinti Council after they had threatened to back out of the Commonwealth. She had always though the Commonwealth would never work, but she was loyal to him, not because he was her captain, but because he was her friend.

He remembered how Tyr and Beka had both tried to warn him against inviting Rhade on board, while Rekel and the other officers just stood there. They were warning him out of loyalty and out of their friendship with him.

He remembered how Trance had snuck onto Mobius, risking her life to save him and how Harper had nearly died from radiation poisoning while he had built him that FMS system.

He remembered how Rev had always tried to warn him before he did something dumb, how he had never reprimanded or judged him if he did do something stupid, but always reassured him and tried to help.

He briefly closed his eyes.

They hadn't only been his crew, they had been his family.

He swallowed and laughed bitterly. And he had let them go. Why? Because he choose the flawless ones over the flawed ones.

And what had he really choosen? He had gotten a bunch of identical clones, some of whom despised him, some of whom despised his mission, but none of them showed it, fearing the protocol which surrounded them.

As he sat there, berating himself for having made the wrong choice, an idea suddenly dawned on him.

He opened his eyes and sat up with a jerk.

He stood up. "Rommie?"

She appeared in front of him. She frowned. She wasn't used to seeing this excited twinkle in her captain's eyes. "Yes, captain?"

He smiled at her. "It's time to throw protocol out the window."

She raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

Dylan smiled. "We're going to go and get our crew back." He said, smiling more brightly than he had smiled all year. "Our real crew."

Rommie couldn't help but let a smile flash across her face. Dylan had not only realized that he had made the wrong choice so long ago, but now he was going to fix it.

Smiling brilliantly, she looked at Dylan. "I'll tell my main AI to try to locate the Eureka Maru right away."

Dylan grinned at her.

Rommie continued staring at him. "Dylan, if I may ask, why did you change your mind?"

Dylan smiled. "Because, my dear and darling ship, I am sick and tired of playing Go by myself. It's boring and frustrating."

Smiling and shaking her head, Rommie disappeared, her main AI already trying to find any sign of the Maru.


	3. Chapter 3

The Choice

(Chapter 3)

Dylan pushed his way past a throng of people and piles of machinery and broken, busted ships. Rommie had traced the Maru's signal to an old docking station on a backwater planet somewhere.

As Dylan bumped into a group of people argueing over the price of some old, rusted chits and nearly tripped over a broken pipe lying on the ground, he couldn't help but pray that Rommie had been wrong.

But as he pushed past more argueing, yelling people and wound his way around piles of rusted ship parts and abandoned ships lying in rotting berths, he discovered that, as usual, his ship had been right.

Lying in a rotting berth with missing planks and a torn tarp hanging on the side and beside a huge pile of old, rusted coils, lay the Eureka Maru.

Dylan stared at it. It looked a lot rustier and broken than it had a year ago when he had last seen it flying out of the Andromeda's hangar deck.

But other than that, it still looked pretty much the same.

He stepped around the pile of coils and walked up to the ship. He carefully stepped over a gaping hole in the berth the ship was lying in and ducked underneath the hanging tarp.

Walking up to the airlock, he pushed the button and the door swished open.

Ducking inside, he slowly walked down the old, familiar corridors. Smoke poured down from the ceiling and his footsteps echoed through the ship as he stepped on the metal grating floor. He smiled. At least the inside hadn't changed.

He ducked underneath a hanging wire. "Hello? Anybody home? Beka? Harper?" he called as he kept on walking, turning around corners.

He paused for a moment when he heard no response. For a moment, fear gripped him as he thought of what would happen if the ship were deserted.

Then: "If you're here about business then hurry up walking and stop yelling through my fucking corridors. If you aren't here about business, then get the fuck off my ship." He heard a female voice yelling through the ship.

He smiled. That was Beka.

He walked faster and nearly rammed into a pole as he hurried towards the front of the ship.

Finally, he found her.

She was sitting on her piloting chair, an empty bottle of vodka beside her. She was staring out of the window at a pile of machinery and at two people arguing over something.

Dylan slowly walked up to her and stopped just before he reached the railing behind the chair she was sitting in.

He cleared his throat. "I thought the last order I gave you was to take care of yourself." He sighed and shook his head. "Don't you ever listen, Captain Valentine?" he asked.

She didn't respond, but slowly, he could see the bleakness in her eyes receding and a hint of recognition in them.

"Dylan?" she breathed. She yanked her head around and stared up at him, her eyes wide.

Dylan stared down at her. Dark circles encircled her eyes and he could swear he saw some streaks of grey in her blond hair. Strands of it hung around her pale, swallow face.

"Hey." He said quietly.

She slowly pushed herself out of the chair. She stumbled over to him, kicking over the bottle but not noticing.

He caught her just before she fell and held her in his arms.

She clutched at him. "Oh, God. Dylan. I thought I'd never see you again." She said, relief and grief flooding her voice at the same time.

Dylan smiled at her as he stared at her. "Well, your old fossil is still alive and kicking." He looked past her and stared out of the window where a drunk man was yelling at a person who obviously had forgotten to pay him for something.

Dylan looked away and slowly led Beka to the kitchen. He sat her down on a chair and sat down across from her. He glanced around at the sink of dirty dishes and the open box of take out on the counter.

He smiled across the table at his former first officer who had put her face into her hands. She sighed and stared at him.

"God, it's been so long."

He smiled. "It's only been a year, Beka."

She shook her head. "If you'd only know how much a year can do to a person." She let out a bitter laugh.

Dylan frowned. "While we're on the subject of how much has happened this year, would you mind explaining to me where the rest of the merry band is? Last I checked, there were five of you living on this ship, not one."

Beka sighed and stared down at the table, her eyes tired.

"You don't want to know, Dylan. You really don't."

Dylan didn't respond but waited for her to go on.

She sighed again and started absentmindly tracing a few scratches in the table with her finger.

"Tyr was the first one to leave. We started arguing over who would take command as soon as we left you. He wanted to be in charge, but I said, no way. I mean, this is my ship and always will be. It'll be a cold day in hell before I let someone else be in charge of it. So, Tyr didn't take that too well. He left soon after. I'm guessing he's back to being a mercenary now."

"Anyway, things went well for about two months. We had the money and the supplies which you gave us, so things were good. But then, when the money and the supplies ran out, we had to try and get back on our feet. We tried going back to salvaging, but we'd been out of the loop for so long that everybody who needed a salvager already had one. So, we resorted to stealing." She took a deep breath, still tracing that scratch on the table.

"I thought things would improve. I really did. But things only got worse. Harper started drinking again. He swore it was only because it made him feel better and stop feeling the hunger pangs when they came and we had no food. But after a while, he just fell off the deep end. Drank every damn day. Not only that, but when we ran out of booze, he'd steal some of the money we had and would go and buy more booze with it. Of course I got pissed. That money was supposed to feed us, not buy Harper more alcohol. But whenever I yelled at him, he'd just get angry and would start yelling back at me. It kept on going like that for months."

"Whenever he'd land in jail for doing something stupid while he was drunk, whenever he stole money, whenever he came home drunk as a skunk, I'd always yell at him and then he'd yell back and we'd end up throwing things at each other." She sighed.

"I mean, all I wanted was for him to stop drinking. He was slowly killing himself and I was worried sick. But he wouldn't care if I told him that I was worried. Kept on retorting that I could take my worry and shove it up my ass. So then I would start yelling at him, and we'd end up chucking forks and empty bottles at each other."

"Then one night, everything came crashing down. I mean, everything fell flat on its face. Harper had come home drunk again and I yelled at him again and he picked up his soldering wand and was about to throw it at me, when Trance got in the way. She tried to talk to him, to calm him down, but he completely ignored her and told her to get out of his way. When she didn't, he grabbed her and shoved her out of the way so hard that she went flying across the room and hit the doorframe. She broke her shoulder. Instead of apologizing, Harper stormed off." Beka drew in a shaky breath.

"Trance left that night. Said something about her being sick of the fighting and that Harper was beyond help. Next, Rev tried. He tried talking to Harper, tried to make him stop drinking, but Harper wouldn't listen to him. Kept on swearing and yelling at him. But Rev didn't give up. Kept on trying. Then, Harper said something to him. I honestly don't know what it was, but it really pissed Rev off. He jumped at Harper and nearly ripped his throat out. I just barely grabbed hold of him and calmed him down. I swear, he nearly killed Harper."

"Rev left the next morning. Said he couldn't trust himself around us anymore and that he wouldn't willingly stay and watch Harper kill himself the way he was going. I was a wreck. Everyone had left except for a drunk, angry idiot with whom the only conversation I had was either swearing or yelling. Then, one day I just got so damn fed up with it. I decided to stop putting up with all the crap Harper had been giving me. That night, a cop called me and asked me to come and pay for Harper's bail after he'd landed himself into jail for drinking again. I didn't go." She blinked and a few tears rolled down her face.

"I left a few minutes later. Revved up the engines and left. I wandered around for a few weeks, finding work here and there and stealing the rest of the time. Then I found this little piece of crap docking station hidden on this backwater planet and I decided to stay. I get my money, food and booze by bribing people and trading some parts with them." She looked up at him and stared at him, giving him a sad smile. "And then you showed up and here we are."

Dylan looked down at the table. "I guess it's my turn to talk." He glanced up at her. "I'll be straight with you. I came here because I wanted to give you a business proposition."

Beka raised an eyebrow. "You came all this way for a damn business deal?"

Dylan smiled. "Yeah. You see, I'm currently in the middle of replacing my entire crew, and I was looking for a first officer." He shrugged. "I thought that you might be interested."

Beka stared at him. "You're replacing your entire crew?"

He nodded.

"What happened to the clones?"

He smiled briefly. "I decided to replace the clones with people whom I care about and who are loyal. Plus, I got sick of playing Go by myself."

Beka continued staring at him.

"So, you feel like joining up again and continuing my crazy, impossible, suicide mission?"

A slow smile spread across Beka's face as her tired eyes regained some of their sparkle.

"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

Dylan smiled. "Good." He glanced around the dimly lit kitchen. "However, now that I've got my first officer back, I'm afraid I'm still missing a weapons officer, a doctor, a linguist/counsellor and an engineer. Feel like helping me look for them?"

Beka grinned. "Just tell me where to go."

XXXXXX

Contacting Rommie, Dylan told her to start tracing the signals from the immune bots which she had injected into the crew a year ago.

Following the faint signals which she discovered, Dylan and Beka scampered to find the missing members of their crew.

They found Rev first.

He was at a Wayist center, busy converting heathens into Wayist followers. They had to wait quite a while for him to show up since he was in the middle of meditating. So, the two of them paced around the center's marble floors, impatiently waiting. When Rev finally showed up, he could hardly believe his eyes when he saw them. Dylan was afraid that Rev wouldn't want to come with them, seeing how he had made a pretty good life for himself, but Rev told him that of course he'd come. When it came to his friends and his crewmates, no Wayist center could hold him back from helping them.

Next, they found Tyr.

He wasn't too badly off either, having a string of regular jobs. Stealing things, killing people, delivering goods, lunging cargo here and there, he was making a pretty decent living.

When Dylan approached him and asked him to come back, Tyr had just stared at him for a few minutes, thinking thoughts which Dylan couldn't see on his face.

Finally, Tyr shrugged and said that he wouldn't mind the change of scenery, and besides, he believed that Dylan still had something the belonged to him anyway, so he saw no reason why not. After all, living on the Andromeda as the weapons officer was no less dangerous than living on a planet as a mercenary.

Dylan had nearly kissed him when he'd shrugged and agreed to come back. However, he restrained himself and they returned to the Maru, where Rommie had just left them a message saying she'd found Trance.

They traced Trance's signal to a backwater planet to a filthy little hospital where she worked.

As soon as Beka, Tyr and Dylan caught sight of her, they could hardly believe their eyes.

Her shirt was torn and her face was pale and her eyes were filled with despair. A dark bruise colored one of her cheeks and a deep scratch was on her arm. Right away, Beka ran up to her and demanded to know who had hurt her.

As soon as Dylan caught sight of a huge and fat doctor who lumbered over to them and asked them what the hell they wanted, Dylan could tell that he was the source of Trance's bruises and scratches. Dylan quite promptly held out his force lance and told him that he wanted nothing from him except to take one of his employees with him, namely Trance, and if he had any complaints about it, he could discuss it closely and personally with his force lance.

Trance was so happy and relieved to see them and to discover that she was free to go with them, that she fainted. Tyr just managed to catch hold of her before she hit the ground.

Shaking his head and muttering something over mistreating employees and purple things, he picked up the thin, pale girl with incredible gentleness and strode out of the hospital, glaring at the doctor as he walked past him.

Dylan and Beka followed him out, with Beka still yelling and swearing at the doctor while Dylan dragged her out.

XXXXXX

It took them longest to find Harper. They looked around for weeks, with Rommie finding faint traces all over the place. But no matter how weak the signal, every single time she detected even the slightest one, they'd race there and cover every inch of the place looking for him.

Rommie had said that she was finding his signal hardest to track probably because of the excess amount alcohol which circulated in his system were blocking her searching signals from reaching the bots. Beka had rolled her eyes and said that the alcohol had probably not only blocked the bots but killed them as well.

After they searched for weeks, dragging their poor, tired ship all over the place, jumping from planet to planet, digging through dumps, alleyways, bars and apartment buildings, each one shabbier and filthier than the rest, they were just about ready to give up.

After they had spent hours digging around another backwater planet, stopping every single blond headed person they came across, Tyr finally exploded.

Yelling that it was a waste of time, he voiced the thought which had been going through everybody's head for weeks. He spat that Harper was probably long dead already, having either died in some prison somewhere or having drunk himself to death and that it was useless to run around and look for his corpse.

As they had all sat around the Maru's table and stared at each other, Rommie's voice interupted them and she said that she'd found another signal. They had all stared at each other, wondering if they should go and look. Wondering if it was worth the heartache, worth the time.

Finally, Beka slowly pushed herself up and looked around at the rest of her crewmates.

"We've come this far. We might as well look one last time." She said quietly.

Wordlessly, the others got up and went to their stations.

After everyone had left, only Beka and Tyr had remained behind. Tyr was staring at her with that look that Beka couldn't read. She sighed and looked up at him.

"Tyr, we might as well give it one last shot." When her comment caused nothing to stir on his face, she sighed again and briefly closed her eyes. Opening them again, she looked at him.

"We owe him that much, Tyr." She said quietly.

Tyr gave Beka long look, before he finally slammed his hand on the table and strode out of the kitchen towards the piloting chair, yelling at Rommie to send them the coordinates before he changed his mind.

XXXXXX

Dylan couldn't help but grimace as he followed Beka down the street they were walking down. Out of all the filthy, backwater planets they'd torn apart looking for Harper, this one definetly took the cake for being the worst.

Drunks lay in the gutters which they walked past, thin children dressed in rags ran past them, fighting over scraps of food, druggies lurked in corners and broken doorways, staring at them as they passed by.

Dylan nearly fell over a person lying on the sidewalk at his feet. The person was so thin that Dylan could see their ribs through his torn, filthy shirt. Dylan realized with a tiny shock that he really couldn't tell if the person was male or female. With another sickening lurch, he realized that it didn't really matter. The person was dead.

Stepping over him and resisting the urge to look over his shoulder again, he followed Beka.

They stared at a group of teenagers dressed in rags who were huddled underneath a torn tarp hanging beside a rotting cardboard box, who stared out at them with huge eyes, filled with hunger and pleas for help.

Beka stared around herself. She saw an old woman, her tangled brown hair covered in streaks of grey reach down into the gutter at her barefeet with gnarled hands and pick up an old bone.

Without blinking an eye, the woman put the bone into her mouth and started chewing on it, her toothless gums trying in vain to get anything off it.

Beka swallowed hard to keep the bile from rising in her throat. Out of all the places she had fished Seamus Harper out of, this one took the cake.

Dylan and her kept on walking, passing a man and a prostitute who were yelling at each other in an alleyway and a mother who was shuffling down the sidewalk with her barefeet, clutching five thin rag dressed children around her.

Dylan sighed and stopped walking. Flicking on his communicator, he quietly asked Rommie if she was absolutely positive that this was where she had traced Harper's signal to. Rommie responded that she was positive and that if they turned left into the next alleyway, that she believed they would find him.

They immediately started walking faster, nearly tripping over a snoring drunk covered in his own vomit who lay flung across the sidewalk and trying hard not to stare at the rat which scurried past them.

When they found the next alleyway on their left, they turned into it and hurried down it.

Passing by a large, rusty garbage bin, piles of rotting cardboard boxes and a hooker who was leaning against the wall and was smiling seductively at Dylan as he passed by, they tried in vain to see their blond headed engineer.

However, except for the hooker, the piles of rotting cardboard boxes and the few rats which scurried around underneath their feet, they couldn't see anybody.

Beka swore under her breath as she stared up and down the alleyway, trying to ignore the way the hooker was still staring at Dylan.

The latter, however, was completely oblivious to the hooker and was frowning as he stared around himself.

"Well, I don't know about you, Beka, but I'm not seeing Harper."

Beka sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Damn," She swore quietly.

She dropped her hand down to her side and glanced up at Dylan.

"Well, another dead end." She laughed bitterly. "I would have probably fainted from shock if we would have found him anyway. I mean, its getting so routine, this constant looking and these constant dead ends."

Dylan gave her a tight smile as he stared up and down the alleyway again. He flicked on his communicator, completely ignoring the look of surprise on the hooker's face.

"Rommie, are you sure? I'm only seeing boxes, rats and a hooker. None of them look like Harper."

"Look again. I'm pretty sure that I traced it right. If it's not that alleyway then it might be the next one over. The signal's really faint."

"Alright. We'll keep on looking." Dylan sighed as he turned it off.

Beka looked up at him. "Next alleyway?"

Dylan nodded. "You bet." He sighed again.

Beka raised her eyebrows. "Let the good times roll."

Dylan nearly laughed, but the entire atmosphere of the place was so depressing that he couldn't find it within him to laugh.

Slowly, they started walking out of the alleyway, stepping over a dead rat which lay at their feet and passing by the hooker who had resumed her seductive staring at Dylan.

They were about to turn around the corner, when Beka spied something poking out from behind the pile of cardboard boxes.

It was the top of somebody's head. A blond head.

Her breath caught in her throat and she grabbed hold of Dylan's arm.

He skid to a stop. "Ow! Captain Valentine, you're lethal." He complained, but abruptly shut his mouth when he saw her pointing at the pile of boxes.

They stared at each other for a split second, hope flying between their eyes, before they lunged forward and started ripping the boxes off the pile, flinging them behind them.

Finally, they had thrown the last box off.

In front of them, lying on his side and completely unmoving, an empty beer bottle beside him, lay Seamus Harper.

As soon as she saw him, Beka found she couldn't breath anymore.

His face and arms were covered in dirt smudges and there was a deep cut on his arm. He was missing his shoes and his bare feet were just as filthy as the rest of him.

He was still wearing the same clothes he had been wearing when she'd last seen him before he'd stormed off and landed himself in jail again. His pants were covered in dark stains, but whether they were of blood or dirt, Beka couldn't tell. His shirt was torn and was so dirty that Beka could hardly tell what color it used to be. He lay there, completely unmoving.

Beka could swear she could see his ribs through his shirt. She nearly started crying when she saw how thin he was. Even his shoulder blades poked through his worn, filthy shirt like knives. Dark circles surrounded his closed eyes which were sunk so deep in his swallow, pale face that his face resembled that of a skull. When Beka looked closer, she could see dark lines running up and down his thin arms. She bit her lip hard. Needle tracks.

Dylan could do nothing but stare at the half dead figure lying at his feet. If it weren't for the metal data port in the side of his neck, Dylan wouldn't have believed anybody if they would've told him that this was Seamus Harper.

Slowly, he bent down and stretched out his hand to feel the boy's neck for a pulse. He found that his hand was shaking. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to press his hand against the thin neck, praying all the while that he'd feel something when he touched it.

Please don't let him be dead, please don't let him be dead, please don't let him be dead, Beka kept muttering over and over in her head as she watched Dylan's hand going closer and closer to his neck.

After Dylan pressed his fingers against his neck for a while, he withdrew his hand and let out a shaky breath and dropped his hand.

He nodded. "He's alive. Barely. But he's alive."

Beka's throat slowly opened and she managed to draw in a deep breath. "Thank God." she breathed.

Slowly and as gently as possible, Dylan reached forward and drew the boy into his arms. Beka could see the look of sadness flash across his face when she saw how easily he lifted him.

Swallowing hard, Beka resisted the urge to grab Harper from Dylan and smack him until he opened his eyes and told her that he was okay.

Blinking hard to keep the welling tears from flooding down her face, Beka walked after Dylan, who moved as carefully and quickly as possible, cradling Harper as gently as he could in his arms.

XXXXXX

After three days, Harper still hadn't woken up.

As soon as Beka and Dylan had opened the airlock, they were greeted by one worried face, one hopeful face and one blank face.

However, as soon as the three of them saw the person whom Dylan was cradling in his arms, all of their eyes widened and a shocked silence enveloped them

Trance had quickly pressed her hand against her mouth to keep herself from sobbing too loudly as tears welled up in her eyes. She had never seen her best friend this close to death. Especially not this kind of death.

Quickly, she whispered for Dylan to take him straight to medical.

Then, she locked the door and refused to allow anybody inside to see either Harper or her.

It took Trance two days of fighting to get Harper a little further away from the brink of death. First, she had torn off his old clothes, tossing them outside the door and ordering that they should be burned. As an afterthought, she yelled out that whoever touched them should wear gloves. When Beka had asked her why, Trance had shakily pointed at the huge cockroach which crawled out of the shirt's sleeve and up Beka's arm.

Next, Trance had disinfect Harper's entire body, or rather what was left of it. If Harper had looked deathly thin with his clothes on, he looked much worse with his clothes off. Trance had nearly started crying, the only thought in her head being, how can anybody this thin still be alive? His ribs dug through his skin like dull knives and his shoulderblades made his thin face and neck look like twigs. His elbows were the widest parts of his arms.

She had carefully taken a soft rag and had washed every speck of dirt off him, sometimes having to scrub him so hard that his skin looked raw, but by the time she was done, she could at least tell that his skin was white, not brown.

Next, she disinfected the numerous cuts and bruises he had all over himself. She hadn't neglected his hair either. As soon as she had seen the small movement through his filthly blond hairstrands, she knew she was up against an army of lice who had been happily multiplying over the last few months. Rubbing Harper's entire head with a disgusting smelling detergent, she smiled with satisfaction when hundreds of tiny critters fell onto the bed, as dead as can be.

Cleaning him on the outside had been easy. Now, it was time for the inside.

She hooked him up to a dialysis machine, through which she filtered every inch of his blood, straining out the diseases, alcohol and drugs that had contaminated his bloodstream for weeks. Lastly, she hooked him up to an assortment of IV's and pumped vial after vial of vitamins, minerals and nutrients into him.

But no matter how hard she worked, no matter how long she sat and talked to him, he didn't wake up.

After three days, Trance finally decided to let the rest of the crew in to see him.

All of their eyes widened as they stared at the clean person lying on the bed. However, when they looked closer and saw how deathly thin and pale he still was and the track marks running up his arms, they knew he was far from being okay.

Beka bit her lip and crossed her arms. God, she wanted him to wake up. All she wanted was for him to give her that cocky smile, see that twinkle in his eyes and hear him crack one of those damn sarcastic remarks.

But no. He just lay there and looked as close to death door as can be.

She sighed. "Alright, Trance. You've been hovering around the guy for three days. You know better than Rommie would what's the matter with him. So, what's the verdict?"

There was a tense silence as all eyes turned to stare at Trance. Trance bit her lip and stared at the floor, wanting to avoid seeing the hope and pleas in the eyes which were on her.

She quickly glanced at the figure lying on the bed beside her and coughed to cover her discomfort.

"Well, uhm. Right now it's kinda hard to say. Uhm, he could really go either way right now. I mean, there's hundreds of possibilities and just about all of them are quite probable, although some less than others. But then again, in every situation some probablities are always less probable than others and—"

Tyr slammed his hand onto the table he was leaning on. "Damn, it girl! Give us a straight answer. Will the boy live or die?"

Another tense silence. Then. "Well, Tyr, being a doctor, I can't tell you how its gonna turn out, seeing how there's so many possibilities, but —"Trance quickly kept on talking, seeing the annoyance starting to glimmer in Tyr's eyes. "—right now, I think he's gonna live."

A chorus of relieved sighs echoed around the room as all of them slowly let that fear within them fade. Even Tyr couldn't help but let a hint of relief show in his eyes when he heard Trance's words.

He was going to live. He was going to live. For how long, none of them knew. But he was going to live.

Trance cleared her throat again, fiddling around with some dials on the machine to which the hundreds of tubes attached to Harper's body were connected to.

"I've managed to clean him up, inside and outside. Right now, he's clean on the outside. Every speck of dirt is gone, and I got the lice off him and I cleaned all his cuts too. His blood is as pure as I can get it and some of the nutrient which his body had been in a severe lack of in the last few months are starting to filter in. In a couple of days, his body will be strong enough to accept some fat containing liquids which I'll give him. That'll make him gain some weight." She glanced down at the thin, wasted person lying on the bed beside her. "Hopefully." She added quietly.

Another silence followed this. Beka shifted from one foot to the other. "Trance, I'm gonna ask you something I don't really want the answer to, but I'm going to ask anyway." She took a deep breath, trying hard to to squint too closely at Harper's chest to make sure he was still breathing. "How badly did the alcohol damage him?"

Trance closed her eyes briefly, not wanting to answer her. "Pretty badly. His liver's as messed up as can be and whatever was left of his immune system is now completely destroyed. If he doesn't stop drinking, he'll die within a month. If he does stop drinking, I'm afraid that no amount of healthy food and medication is going to fix the damage. I don't only mean this damage, I mean all the damage that Harper's ever been through. His body was already damaged beyond repair before you rescued him off earth, Beka."

Beka blinked hard to keep the tears from reaching her eyes. She had one last question left, but she really didn't want to know the answer to it. She closed her eyes.

"Trance, what about—" her throat closed up and she swallowed up. She refused to break down and cry now. Now was not the time. Taking a deep breath, she tried again. "What about the drugs?" Beka nodded at Harper's arms where the dark, ugly needle tracks still showed.

Trance's gaze slid onto the floor so Beka wouldn't see the pain that had flooded into her eyes.

Beka stared at the purple girl. "Is it Nethyl again?" Beka asked quietly.

Wordlessly, Trance nodded.

"Shit." Beka swore under her breath as she leaned against the wall she was standing in front of and closed her eyes. When she opened them again and saw that everyone in the room was staring at her, bit her lip.

"When I fished him out of the gutters on earth, he was hooked on Nethyl. It's an intravenous drug. It isn't an enhancer, it's just a good high. Let's you forget about everything for a few hours. That's why Harper started doing it in the first place. After his parents had died and he'd gone to jail for a year, he couldn't deal with it anymore and he started doing Nethyl. It wasn't until three months later that he found out how addictive the crap is."

"He was hooked on it for three years. I have no idea how or where he kept on getting the money to buy the stuff with, but whatever it was, he never told me. Anyway, I said that the only way I'd take him with me is if he got off Nethyl. It was hard, but after a month, he was finally clean." She smiled bitterly and glanced at Rev.

"Boy, wasn't that fun, Rev? Having a normal Harper for a couple of hours during the day, and then having an insane, screaming Harper the rest of the time?" Beka laughed bitterly as Rev chuckled, remembering how hard it had been to get the young man off the drugs the first time.

They had to strap him onto the very bed he was lying on now, since he'd get so violent and completely out of control that he had once even broken Beka's arm when she had tried to stop him from jumping out of the airlock and running to the closest drug dealer. It had been a hellish month, having Harper go from screaming insanely and trying to kill them to having him fall apart and cry for hours, with their soothing words fall on deaf ears. But after that month, Harper could truly say he was clean. And for the past five years, Harper had been clean.

Rev grimaced. Until now. He sighed as he envisioned the long, hard road ahead of all of them. Especially Harper. He briefly closed his eyes and muttered a quiet prayer that this time, Harper would be able to fight it and live.

He'd done it before, but there was no telling if he could do it again.

XXXXXX

Slowly, everyone filtered out of the room. Trance was going to stay, but after everyone saw how exhausted she looked, Dylan had given her a direct order to go to bed and not to wake up for the next twelve hours.

The only person who hadn't left the room was Beka.

She hadn't left for two reasons. The first was because Trance said that the only way she would leave Harper's side was if somebody stayed to watch over him. Immediately, Beka had volunteered.

The other reason was that she really didn't want to leave him. She couldn't bear the thought of being out of the room and failing to be there when he opened his eyes, or when his heart stopped beating.

She sighed as she slowly lowered herself into the chair which Trance had put beside his bed. God, how badly she wanted him to open his eyes.

It wasn't before she had seen the look of Trance's face when they had asked her if he would live, that she let it sink in that he might die.

Through all the years that she'd known him, she'd seen him suffer through so much. But he had always managed to get back up on his feet and keep on going.

Now, for the first time in long five years that that she had known him, she realized that she might lose him.

As tears welled up in her eyes, she made no attempt to stop them.

With a sob, she let her head fall onto her arms which were lying on Harper's bed. Burying her head into her arms, she clutched the white sheets on top of which he lay.

Not caring about who could hear her and who could see her, she let her sobs continue.

All that she thought about was that she might lose him. She might actually lose him.

XXXXXX

Beka blinked as she slowly opened her eyes. She frowned in confusion when she glanced around herself. She was in medical. Leaning on Harper's bed.

Suddenly, the events of the last few days came flooding back to her and she slowly straightened up and stretched out her aching back.

She must have fallen asleep. Suddenly alarmed, she quickly skimmed over the readouts blinking on the dozens of machines attached to Harper. With frustration, she realized that she couldn't tell them all apart and some of the damn things had some of that medical mumbo-jumbo on it that she didn't understand.

However, she quickly found the two machines that she was looking for. There were only two of them, but they were the only two that truly mattered. Scanning the faint green lines which criss crossed the two screens, she breathed a sigh of relief.

His heart was still beating and he was still breathing.

Grimacing over the stiffness in her neck, she glanced at the still figure lying on the bed in front of her.

His chest still rose up and down regularily. She smiled. He was still fighting.

She reached out and gently ran a hand down his swallow face. The dark circles around his sunken eyes were fainter now.

He was still fighting.

She smiled and got off the chair. She grimaced and swore under her breath when she discovered that her foot had fallen asleep.

Trying hard to swear quietly as not to wake him up, she hobbled over to the counter. She grabbed a glass and poured some water into it.

Lifting it up to her lips, she drained it. She was about to fill the glass up again when she heard a small moan from behind her.

The glass dropped onto the floor and broke into pieces with a crash. She spun around, her eyes wide and hopeful.

She raced back to his bedside, ignoring her aching foot.

"Seamus?" she breathed, staring at his still face.

She held her breath as she stared at him with hope written all over her face.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

The first thing she saw glimmer in those blue eyes was confusion, then fear as he stared around himself.

With a sharp intake of breath, he sat up straight, staring around himself with fear in his eyes.

"Seamus, Harper. It's me," Beka said, putting a calming hand on his shoulder.

He flinched from her touch. "Who the fuck are you?" he snarled, trying to edge as far as possible away from her on the narrow cot.

Beka held up her hands. She lowered her voice and tried to sooth away his fears. "Seamus, it's me. Beka. You're on the Maru."

His eyes were still moving between her, the machines to which he was hooked up to and the door. He was still breathing hard. That fear didn't leave his eyes as he glared at her.

Beka backed up a few steps. "Harper, calm down and think for a minute. You know me. I know you do. I'm Beka."

Slowly, his breathing calmed down. He blinked. "Beka?" he whispered in a tiny, thin voice.

She nodded.

He lay back down and rested his head on the pillow behind him. Some of the fear was receding from his eyes.

He stared at her again. Then, slowly he closed his eyes.

Beka sat down on the chair again and waited.

She knew that he'd speak when he was ready. Over the long friendship, she learned that he only spoke when he was ready, not a moment sooner.

After what seemed like years but must have only been minutes, he opened his eyes again.

He stared up at her.

Now, Beka could see no confusion, and no fear in his eyes. Only exhaustion. Not exhaustion from being tired, but exhaustion from life itself.

He gave her a weak smile. "Hey, boss." He whispered in a thin voice.

Such an immense feeling of happiness engulfed her that she had to restrain herself from grabbing him and hugging him. Seeing how that would probably kill him, she grabbed hold of his hand and squeezed it with her own.

He'd done it again. He'd fallen down but somehow, by some hidden power within him, he'd picked himself up again.

She smiled at him through her tears. "Hey, Seamus."

His gaze slid away from her and he stared up at the ceiling. He sighed.

"I must've messed up pretty badly, huh?"

She gave him a smile. "Uhm, yeah. You did."

He didn't smile back. Instead, he stared at her. In his eyes she could see not only the exhaustion but a hidden grief too. "I'm sorry, boss."

She held up a hand. "Seamus, there is absolutely no need to apologize, you only—"

"Beka, there is a need for me to apologize. What I did and said before I left, I was an asshole. All that you and Trance and Rev were trying to do was help me, but I just pushed you all away." He smiled sadly. "I pushed you all away, even though you are all that I have left."

She smiled. "Harper, it's okay. Really. You know as well as I do that Trance and Rev never hold grudges, and when it comes to you, neither do I. Anyway, it's too late to apologize." She gave him a wry grin. "I've already forgiven you."

"But, boss, the things I said and the things I did…I'll never be able to forgive myself."

"Well, that's okay, cause I already forgave you. No, that's wrong. I have nothing to forgive you for. Yes, you were a dumbass at times, but then again, everybody is a dumbass from time to time. It's all part of being in a family. You put up with the good and the bad in everybody. All the time." She took a deep breath. "Plus, I have to apologize too."

He frowned. "For what?"

She stared at him, sadness and regret clouding her eyes. "I abandoned you, Harper—"

"Boss, you had every right to. I was an asshole and I did and said things that totally justified you leaving me and— "

"Harper, I never leave crewmembers behind. Never. Especially when those crewmembers are like family. Plus, I made a promise to you that I would never, ever abandon you. With one little decision, I broke every promise that I have ever made to you and to myself, and for that, I'll never be able to forgive himself."

He smiled. "Okay, here's the deal. We both did some dumb things, we both broke promises, and we both did things that we shouldn't have done. So now, all we can do is wipe the slate clean."

"Wipe the slate clean?"

"Uh-huh."

She stared at him for a moment before letting a smile spread across her face.

"Is that a deal, Seamus?"

"You bet."

He lifted up his hand and firmly shook hers. She leaned back in her chair. She was so immensly happy that they had smoothed that over.

She never broke promises. Never. Especially when it came to her family. But from now on, she made a promise to herself never to break a promise to him ever again. No matter what happened.

Harper let himself sink back into his pillow. He was so immensly happy that they had smoothed that over. He knew that he had acted like a total jerk and said and done things that he wasn't supposed to, but from now on, he swore never to sink that low again. He swore never to let his drinking, or anything come between him and his family. No matter what happened.

XXXXXX

(a few days later)

Dylan poked his head into medical and strode in. He smiled when he found himself witness to the last few moments of a heated debate between Trance and Harper on whether or not he had to take the IB's she was giving him.

At the end, Trance won out and Harper rolled his eyes briefly before injecting himself with the IB's.

Dylan cleared his throat. Immediately, Trance's triumphant face turned to look at him and Harper's scowling face lit up.

"Hey, boss. How ya doing?" he asked.

Dylan couldn't help but smile. The person who was still trying to fight off death every living minute of his life was asking him how he was doing.

"I'm splendid, Mr.Harper. But much more importantly, how are you doing?"

Harper waved a dismissive hand at the machines he was still hooked up to.

"Gaining weight like a pig and have cleaner blood than Tyr. Asides from that, I'm being pumped full of disgusting tasting medications, injected by vomit inducing IB's, and being nagged at and harrassed by a purple doctor. Other than that, I'm fine."

Dylan laughed. He would never change.

"Well, I'm glad to see you're recovering."

Harper gave him a grin.

Dylan went over to the chair beside Harper's bed and slowly sat down.

"Uhm, Mr.Harper? I have a business proposition to make to you."

Harper raised an eyebrow. "Business proposition?"

"Yeah. You see, I'm currently in the process of replacing my entire crew, and I seem to still be missing an engineer. Interested?"

Harper's grin widened. "Interested? You bet."

Dylan smiled. Just then, Trance interupted them and said that it was time for another round of medication for Harper, and that he always put up such a fuss that it would be best for Dylan's nerves and his sanity if he left now.

Dylan laughed and walked out of medical. Just before he turned the corner, he heard Harper yell something after him.

"Do I get a retirement fund too?"

Dylan raised an eyebrow, trying hard not to laugh."Retirement fund, Mr.Harper? You aren't even thirty."

"Yes, I know. I'm getting ancient. I mean, I'm nearly thirty! It's insane. So, about that retirement fund—" His voice was cut off by an exasperated Trance telling him to please be quiet and not to squirm around. All the IV's kept on falling out of his arms when he moved around so much.

Dylan's laughter accompanied him all the way to the front of the ship, where he found tears rolling down his face.

Tyr, who was flying, glanced at him and rolled his eyes, muttering something about some people being so easily entertained.

Dylan was laughing too hard to answer him.

He really had his crew back.

XXXXXX

(one month later)

Dylan leaned back in his chair. After a moment of hesitation, he kicked off his shoes and put his feet up onto his desk.

For the first time in a year, he wasn't afraid over anybody coming in and frowning in disapproval over his unHigh-Guardness.

He smiled.

Everything was just the way it should be.

XXXXXX

After Harper had finally regained consciousness and had accepted Dylan's offer, Dylan found himself back to square one.

Again, he had two crews to deal with and he was back to having to make a choice between the two.

He smiled and nearly laughed when he thought about how hard it had been for him to make the choice the first time. He really couldn't understand why the choice had been so hard to make. The answer was obvious.

At least now it was.

Right away, he contacted Rekel and asked her to please get ready to receive 4000 High Guard crewmembers who would be arriving on Tarazed quite shortly in lifepods.

At first, Tyr had volunteered to make up a plot so that Dylan wouldn't look so bad in front of a Commonwealth planet. He said that the Maru crew could just pretend to kidnap Dylan and threaten to kill him if the new crew wouldn't get off the Andromeda.

Dylan had nearly burst out in tears when heard the suggestion.

Again he couldn't help but wonder over how stupid he had been to choose that batch of clones over these few, loyal people. Right away, he had thanked Tyr from the bottom of his heart for his loyalty, but the Nietzschean had brushed it aside and had gruffly demanded to know what Dylan proposed.

Dylan knew that if he just contacted Rekel and told her to pick up the High Guard crew he was throwing out the hangar deck (quite literally), that his reputation as a Commonwealth captain and as a High Guard officer would be damaged forever in Tarazed's eyes. However, he found himself not caring. If throwing away his reputation meant he would get his crew back, so be it.

So, he contacted Rekel and told her to get ready to receive the crew.

Dylan had really considered going to the Andromeda and giving them a formal send off, but after Rommie contacted him, he quickly changed his mind.

It turned out that after he had left, that housekeeper woman (he still couldn't remember her damn name) had attempted to seize control of the ship. Supported by the entire crew, the only reason his ship hadn't been ransacked was because Rommie had managed to shut down their access to her main systems using some gizmo that Harper had left behind.

As soon as Rommie received the message that Dylan wanted the entire crew gone, she ordered them to get off her, get into lifepods and go. When they all refused, she had raised an eyebrow and turned on her internal defense weapons and had sent the crew scampering to the hanger deck towards the lifepods.

Watching the last of them disappear in space towards Tarazed, Rommie had shaken her head and muttered something over never messing with a warship.

XXXXXX

Dylan wished he could say that life on the ship went back to being just the way it was a year ago, but that wasn't true.

Before he had left, Harper had been clean and sober. Now, he was an alcoholic and hooked on Nethyl.

It was a nightmare. At first, Dylan had thought that Harper would recover on his own in a couple of days and that he'd drag himself through it with a smile like he did with everything else. But he didn't.

The alcohol was the easy part. Right away, Dylan and Tyr had torn the entire ship apart and confiscated every single bottle containing any form of alcohol that Harper had hidden. Tyr was disgusted beyond belief when he ripped off some panelling of a wall in the hallway only to discover a huge crate of 24 beet bottles hidden inside.

Next, Dylan ordered Rommie to keep a 24 hour watch on Harper and make sure he didn't drink a drop. On the off occasion that he crept into some hidden tunnel with a bottle of beer, Rommie immediately notified the crew and minutes later, Trance would come crawling along the tunnel towards him. Swiftly, she'd take away his bottle and replace it with a can of Sparky Cola. Without as much as a 'you're welcome', she'd disappear again and pour the rest of the beer down the drain, leaving a swearing and complaining Harper behind.

No, that had been the easy part.

The Nethyl was where the nightmare started.

The first few days had been the worst. Whenever a craving hit, Harper would go insane. Screaming and swearing at anybody who tried to talk to him, throwing anything he got his hands on, and if anybody tried to restrain him, he'd fight nail and tooth until they let go of him. And as suddenly as it started, all the anger would drain out of him and he'd collapse on the floor, sobbing and muttering, curled up on the floor and no amount of soothing words or gentle touches would calm him down.

On the good days, these fits would just last for a few minutes, during which Trance and Rev quickly backed out of the room, leaving the rest of the crew to try and rip anything Harper got his hands on out of his hands before he hurled it across the room or hit anybody with it. As soon as the fits had started, Beka had taken away Harper's gun and his soldering wand and nanowelder and anything else with which he could hurt himself or others.

On the bad days, he'd try to run into medical and mix together some Nethyl for himself. During these desperate fits, anybody who tried to get near him would end up with either a broken arm or a shattered jaw. Harper once even ripped the pole off the bedpost in medical and tried to smash Dylan's skull open when Dylan had tried to stop him from injecting himself with something he had wiped up. During these times, Tyr would intervene. He would always rip whatever Harper was holding out of his hands and then try and stay out of the seething,violent man's way until Tyr could hold him down long enough to pinch him by his shoulderblades until he was rendered unconscious.

Tyr always tried his best not to hurt the smaller and weaker man, but at times the only way he could get Harper to calm down was to slug him across the face hard enough to stun him, leaving Tyr time to either strap him down onto the bed or render him unconscious long enough to carry him up to medical.

It was a nightmare for everyone. The constant frustration, the constant failures of trying to break through to Harper and the constant heartaches when Harper was reduced to a sobbing wreck with nobody being able to help him, were taxing on everyone.

But after a month, they had succeeded.

Harper could once again say that he was clean and sober, and the only thing that circulated around his bloodstream was the steady stream of caffeine from the Sparky Cola.

Trance had made it quite clear that if Harper touched another drop of alcohol and started on another binge that it would kill him. So, in order to keep Harper away from any alcoholic beverages, Dylan suggested that any formal dinner or reception where they normally served alcohol, they would serve cider instead.

For the first little while, the crew would always get strange looks from the visiting government officials when they found themselves having a toast with a glass of apple cider in their hands, but they gradually got used to it. Dylan excused it with the fact that it was against Rev's religion to drink, and even when he wasn't present, Dylan said that the crew had gotten so used to not drinking that they even kept it up during official visits.

XXXXXX

Dylan crossed his arms behind his head and looked around his office. He'd have to go down to command pretty soon. His shift was starting soon. And he'd have to stop at engineering along the way. Rommie had been complaining for weeks already about her ventilation systems on deck 3. Harper would have to look into that.

Dylan smiled. Everything was back to the way it should be.

It was true that with the other crew, things were much quieter and much less hectic.

Rommie didn't have to do a million things at once, and Dylan didn't have to constantly run around everywhere making sure that everything was working.

But he found that he truly didn't mind it.

His gaze landed on the Go board lying in front of him. He smiled. He hadn't touched the damn board for weeks already.

Between arguing with his first officer over the annoyance level of the Castalian national anthem, buying new plants for his medical officer and trying in vain to get his engineer to clean up after himself, his hands were full.

He smiled again. "Rommie?"

Her hologram flickered into existence in front of him.

"Yes, Dylan?"

"Do me a favor and get rid of that damn Go board, will you?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Get rid of it?"

"Yeah. Burn it in the engines or throw it out of the hangar deck doors, I don't care. Just get rid of it."

She continued to stare at him, confusion on her face. "Captain…?"

"You're wondering why."

"Yes."

He smiled. "I'm much too busy to play Go. Being a real captain, having a real crew and having a real ship all take up too much of my time."

Rommie smiled. She stared at the floor before looking up at him again. "Dylan, won't you miss it?"

He smiled. "Miss what?"

"The saluting, the protocol, the properness, the effeciency, the calm and the need to never worry and bother yourself about trivialitites."

Dylan sighed. "You know what, Rommie? I thought I would miss it. I really would. But then I realized something. I could either live like a High Guard captain with a professional and protocol abiding crew for whom I'm only a part of their jobs, or I could live like a starship captain with a ragtag crew of miracles for whom I'm part of their lives. I choose the latter."

Rommie smiled. "They still have their faults, Dylan."

He gave a small laugh. "Yes, they do. They always will. But you know what? In exchange for their unwavering loyalty and the fact that they are all miracles, I can take all of their faults no problem."

Rommie gave him another smile before she flickered and disappeared.

Dylan continued to stare at the spot where she had been standing.

Thoughts of his crew filled his head.

Yes they all had faults, but he wouldn't trade them for the world. No, not for the world.

He leaned back in his chair again and sighed.

In the first time in over 300 years, he could truly relax. Life was just the way it should be.

Suddenly, his thoughts were interupted by the sounds of sirens blaring and Beka's voice came over the intercom.

"Uh, Dylan, I think you better get your butt to command right now. A Nietzschean fleet just appeared out of nowhere and they're—Harper, no, you may _not_ blow them to pieces now—they're firing at us. Anyway, we need you up here."

"On my way."

He pushed himself up and quickly strode out of his office and towards command.

Along the way, he met up with Tyr who was mumbling under his breath and Trance who was walking and looking at a flexi in her hands at the same time.

They turned around the corner and entered command.

Beka was piloting, Harper was madly running around, screaming reports over the number of ships they were being attacked by, Tyr was already at the weapons station firing at the ships and Trance was ducking in and out under his arms, pushing the buttons on the panel in front of her.

Dylan walked and stood beside Beka, watching her expertly manouver around the ships.

Rommie strode into the room.

"Dylan, initially there were 34 fighters and 2 destroyers. Tyr had eliminated one of the destroyers but I'm afraid that the other one is starting to vector off—Harper, will you stop running around? You've just managed to drag yourself back from the brink of death and you're already killing yourself again."

"Rommie, doll, I'm fine."

"No, you're not, sit down."

Dylan started to laugh. They were in the middle of a battle and his ship was yelling at his engineer because she was afraid he might catch a cold.

Leaning against the railing beside him, Dylan sighed.

Yes, life was just the way it should be.

They all had their faults, but deep down, they were all miracles.

And Dylan knew that he would never trade them for anything in the universe.


End file.
